Paper Predators
by Bananafish II
Summary: "You're too reactive. Am I wrong?" After an argument with Ginjo leads to Riruka falling down an open manhole, she finds herself in a strange place filled with familiar faces (and rated T for cursing and shonen-level violence). But when she finds herself "living the dream," the question looms: could an imperfect reality be better than a perfect dream?


Riruka adjusted her purse on her shoulder as she stormed down the street, as far away from the X-cution hideout as possible. The purse bobbed against her side as she walked. It was a little heavy, but a lot lighter than she would have expected, had she stopped to think about it. But she had more important things to think about, like hypocrisy, or how much she wanted to fire her love gun into Yukio's smug little face. _Those idiots,_ she fumed, _always ganging up on me! _

It started out stupid, after Ichigo's first training session, when the others were out doing whatever and the two of them were in doing nothing. Everything was peachy until Ginjo looked up from his half-empty glass of gin and said, "You need more training."

"Huh?" She expected this sort of thing from Yukio, who always seemed to slip in a random reference to some idiotic game or another whenever he opened his mouth, but Ginjo didn't dabble in non-sequiturs.

"Now that Ichigo's with us, it's our duty to keep him safe until he can fight on his own. Everything we're working for is going to go down the tubes if he dies on us, and the last thing we want is for Tsukishima to take notice." Sprawled out on the couch, one arm slung over the back, he could not have looked or sounded any less concerned. Riruka frowned.

"Yeah? So? Why does that mean that _I_ need to train?"

He leaned forward, cupping the glass of gin between his hands. If his action was somehow meant to indicate that he was worried, he was failing miserably.

"Because you're weak."

The look she gave him would have given a menos grande second thoughts about bothering her. He blinked.

"What about everyone else? Why just me? All the geek does is play games, and I'm sure Tsukishima would love for Giriko to mix him a drink right before we all get murdered." She sat back and pouted.

"Nobody's going to murder us. That's the point of training. We all need to train more, Riruka, but you need it the most. Yukio and Giriko have their limits, but they're versatile. You're not."

"The hell I'm not!" She sat forward and pointed, her finger jabbing the air inches from his face. "You have no idea how versatile I am!"

Ginjo took a long, leisurely sip and shrugged. "Okay then. Prove it."

She stood up suddenly, dramatically pointing a finger towards the ceiling. "You want me to prove something, Ginjo? I'll prove that I have a stuffed pig with your name on it!" Above her finger, a small floating heart twirled into existence and trailed after her arm as she directed it right between his eyes. The heart fluttered through the air, over the coffee table, through the space between them, bobbing and weaving towards its target. She'd already retrieved Mr. Pork from her purse and now held the toy triumphantly above her head.

"Ginjo Kugo," she screamed, "I permit y-"

The remainder of Ginjo's drink splashed her face before she could finish, along with the ice cubes. Wincing and coughing, she wilted back into her seat and rubbed her eyes. "Ginjo, you ass! You didn't have to go that far! That burns!"

"What did you think would happen?" he asked. "Did you think I'd let you hit me? A serious enemy wouldn't." His voice came from across the coffee table and not-to her disappointment-from the stuffed animal. "The point is, you're too reactive. Your attacks are too telegraphed. To become stronger, you need more training."

_I totally hit him, though! _Riruka protested_. He should be sealed inside the pig! Why isn't he in the pig? _

Behind her, the door opened. She heard the rustle of paper and plastic bags and clinking glass. Giriko, Yukio, and Jackie had returned.

"In honor of Mr. Ichigo's resounding first step," Giriko announced dryly, "I bring you a selection of fine wines."

"Purchased by yours truly," added Yukio.

Riruka opened her eyes gingerly, still wincing. "If it's for Ichigo, shouldn't he be here?"

Rising smoothly, he stood up and walked towards the bar. As he passed her, Riruka noticed a gleam bubblegum pink on the floor: an ice cube branded by her fullbring. It crunched beneath the heel of Ginjo's white leather shoe. "He's underage, and so are you."

"You're doing that thing again! How come I'm too young to drink and that pipsqueak over there isn't?" She paused. "You could at least have picked up some doughnuts..."

"Well, this 'pipsqueak' paid for everything, so I deserve a drink. What did you do?"

She stood up just as suddenly as before, very aware of a vein pounding in her forehead. "Don't act all high and mighty towards me, Yukio! I can take anything I want from you and there's nothing you can do about it!" She punctuated her declaration with a forceful finger-point.

Although she couldn't see it in the dim light, his eyes narrowed and his hand slipped into his pocket. "Would you care to back that up?"

She flexed a skinny hand. "Glad to."

Ginjo quickly stepped between them. "Not this again. Cool it, Riruka."

Yukio shrugged and slipped a pair of headphones out of his coat. Riruka clenched her teeth.

"What do you mean by 'this again'?" asked Jackie, "and why are _you_ covered in alcohol?"

Ginjo shrugged. "She attacked me."

"_What_? Don't even act like that's what happened! I was lying on the couch, minding my own business, when _this_ asshat says, 'You're the weakest one here. You need training. Blah blah blah blah blah.' So I said, 'I don't need training, I'm just as good as anyone here,' and when I used my fullbring, he threw his freaking _gin_ in my face and then he was all, 'You need training. You're too emotional!'"

Giriko and Jackie turned towards the man with the white leather shoes, who was pouring himself another drink. He met their gaze and spoke after a long sip. "Yep. That's how it happened. Am I wrong?"

Nobody said anything.

There was a long, awkward silence that left Riruka wishing that she could sink into the floor before Yukio quipped, "I don't think doughnuts increase your speed."

She exploded. "I don't want health tips, you brat! What I want is respect!"

Ginjou scoffed. "Could've fooled me."

Rigid-armed and quivering, she spun on her heel, walked to the door, and threw it open. In the doorway, she raised her finger, summoning her fullbring once more, and turned around.

Everyone was still staring. Nobody looked particularly intimidated.

She deactivated it and reached inside her purse, but Giriko stopped her with a shake of his head. _Screw you, old man_, she thought, but moved her hand away anyways. As much as the idea of demolishing the building with a giant stuffed rabbit appealed to her, he'd probably make her pay for the damages out of her own bank account. Inhaling to keep herself from screaming, she slammed the door behind her.

That was when the sun was still setting and she could sort of see. An hour after the sun went down, she kept walking. At first, when the streets were busier, she wandered from shop to shop, hunting for increasingly obscure cute things. At an antique shop, she discovered a porcelain English-style tea set, and at a toy store she learned what an axolotl was before she purchased the giant plush amphibian. Everything she found went into the bag. What she couldn't afford went into the bag. When the shops closed down, she kept walking.

By the time she reached a small, suburban neighborhood, she decided that walking down the middle of the street was smarter than constantly stubbing her toe on the curb. Even though it was too dark for her to see her feet against the asphalt, she kept walking. _Maybe I'll find Ichigo's place. He let that Shinigami chick stay at his house for three months, was it? _She was still trying to remember where the Kurosaki Clinic was located when she walked straight into an open manhole.

Pinwheeling her arms to catch herself, she knew it was already too late. She pitched forward and tumbled down the hole.

Light flashed around her boots: her bringer light. It should have caught her, or at least it should have slowed her down, but she kept falling.

_Why? What's happening? _Even before she'd met Ginjo, she had full control of her fullbring, including her bringer light. Ever since she was six, it was reliable, like a guest at one of her childhood tea parties, or simple instinct. Even after ten years, before that night, her fullbring never failed.

But this was different. There was a flash, a ring of liquid light, but no support. Even simple acceleration was beyond her. The boots flashed and sparked as much as she willed, but that was it.

That wasn't the only thing going wrong, however. Riruka watched, dumbstruck, as a pink and white dresser rose out of her purse, grew back to its original size, and floated away like a soap bubble. Then a stuffed elephant. A pillow. The axolotl. It all poured out faster than she could grasp, and what she could hold on to grew too big to hold in her hand as she fell away. Stuffed animals, furniture, dishes, the air above her teemed with merchandise that hung in the air like stars, while the walls around her were black.

_What is this?_ she wondered as she drifted down in the darkness. _Where is this?_

Above her, beyond the stuff-studded dark, a circle of night sky grew smaller and smaller as she drifted farther and farther away.


End file.
